


Nothing Else

by araliya



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-07-12 20:56:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16003148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/araliya/pseuds/araliya
Summary: An old escape.





	Nothing Else

**Author's Note:**

> Title and Lyrics from Angus and Julia Stone's [Nothing Else](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4uZHBath6OU). Listen.

_(nothing else to do here_

_but fall into your arms)_

 

Tonight, the sun sets slowly, like a bee crawling through viscous honey. It makes the sand look more golden than it really is, the air sweeter, the wind warmer.

 

Chris escapes from the others early, just to bask. He’s gluttonous for the ethereality of it, the soft-hued French New Wave backdrop. He can imagine he’s Bridget Bardot, flicking the ash from the end of her cigarette, effortlessly cinematic. He can imagine there aren’t several awning bell tents pitched feet away, smelling undeterrably of weed and whiskey.

 

The beginnings of a plot are unraveling in his mind when Darren comes up to join him. His grin is wide and irrepressible, hair wild like a mane or a halo- Chris can’t decide. He’s shirtless and barefoot and utterly boyish, and when he leans down to kiss Chris’ temple, he smells like earth.

 

“What are you thinking about?” Darren asks, curling himself around Chris’ body. His arms circle Chris’ waist, hands gentle over the flimsy cotton.

 

“Bridget Bardot,” Chris says.

 

Darren laughs, low and gravelly. Chris can feel him nudge at his ear with his lips, taking the soft flesh between his teeth, tugging ever so slightly. “Should I be worried?”

 

Chris involuntarily turns his face outwards, granting Darren’s drifting mouth better access.

 

“...apparently not,” Darren deduces, and Chris is too content to roll his eyes, too content to do nothing but lean further backwards, into the circle of his arms.

 

***

 

_(nothing else to do here_

_but kiss under the stars)_

 

California poppies dance in the evening wind, muted burgundy against the dirt. 

 

They’re all at the makeshift fire pit, huddled in a circle, sipping cider out of cans and passing around overstuffed joints. Someone has a guitar because of course, they’re  _them_ , and a song starts up, lively yet subdued, blissful yet melancholy.

 

Darren is a solid constant by Chris’ side, radiating warmth across the intangible space between them. His eyes light up at the melody, body almost visibly flickering to life.

 

“Dance with me,” he says.

 

Usually Chris would say no, would shift his eyes to the people around them, wary of their gaze. Usually his head wouldn’t be milky and light, vision blurring around the edges, fading like a pinhole until Chris can see nothing but Darren, nothing but  _him_.

 

And so Chris whispers, “Okay”, lets Darren pull him up to his feet, holds on for a moment until the world stops revolving. Darren is already moving fluidly, hips and shoulders and ankles all in tandem- enviably effortless. He takes Chris’ hand, pulls him out further away from the pit and out into the open.

 

The girls’ voices grow dimmer, the strumming of the guitar less strident, and suddenly, they’re alone. Chris finally gives in to Darren’s smile, gives  _up_ , and allows his limbs to move freely. At some point their hands find each other and they’re spinning, feet kicking up dust. Chris feels like a child.

 

He clutches Darren, giddy, and the plume of dust they’ve lifted dissipates into the air, charcoal grey in the semidarkness. And then Darren holds him properly, kisses him, and Chris feel  _alive_.

 

_(i like you_

_just the way you are)_


End file.
